M.e.m.b.e.r.s. Book One

By Danielle Sainte-Marie

Who is the former orphan, Daniel Renfro? Why does the people he love keep dying in sinister ways? Who is it outside his door at 3 am, seething with rage?

Only by reading M.E.M.B.E.R.S. are the amazing answers revealed...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Nov 4, 2014
• ISBN: 9781312653023

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M.e.m.b.e.r.s. Book One

M.e.m.b.e.r.s.

Book One

By

Danielle Sainte-Marie

. . . . . . Never break the oath.

Copyright and Dedication:

A Lilac Shadows Publishing book.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by Lilac Shadows Publishing in conjunction with Lulu House.

ISBN: 978-1-312-65302-3

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition: December 1st, 2013

Cover art by Danielle Sainte-Marie

Acknowledgements: This book began 22 years and three months ago, and most of that time was not spent in writing, but rather, research. With the mentoring of Joseph Campbell, Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism, Christianity, and the direct experience of Ninjutsu, this book was able to come to life. The Book of Enoch was also read many times, cover to cover. But, without the love and support of my wives, Raquel Bear—and Chloe Jennings-White (who also helped with editing)—I could not have waded through such a difficult task. So, my pages are a product of diligent study and tremendous love. Thank you to my family for believing in me, and thank you to the world for being so patient. I hope you will feel it was worth the wait.

Chapter One: Dănĭēl

When you have mastered numbers, you will in fact no longer be reading numbers, any more than you read words when reading books; you will be reading meanings.

~W. E. B. Du Bois

We cannot become what we need to be by remaining what we are.

~Max De Pree

The harsh winter turned into gentle spring and the much anticipated warmth brought forth selfless flowers, freely giving of their time and fragranced beauty. Their many violet and rainbow hues trumpeted the spiritual sentiments inherent in the diversity of seasonal change. They might have sensed the grave danger that lie ahead, thus their sudden call to abundant arms. Everyone noticed how unusually dense the foliage seemed that year, and indeed, many of the older ones such as I remember it well: the landscape became dense, teeming with lush flowers everywhere…even in the sparsest of deserts.

Trees too, had a sudden tangent of growth spurts and so many of them that fateful year were visibly taller after just a few weeks of spring and summer. Horticulturists around the world debated individual theories and ideas, but the common conspiracy theory of the time was that some kind of substance capable of altering the genetic coding of these plants had somehow been introduced widely into the water table. This of course, was complete nonsense as we all would later learn. The truth was much more insidious.

No, the flowers and trees were simply signifying to us that a monumental change was on the horizon. The greatest battle ever to be fought in history was coming, and somehow, I believe the earth sensed this and started shoring up its defenses to withstand the inevitable onslaught. Like an army of kindness, the flowers were the soldiers and the trees the officers. If only we had understood nature’s warning, many more might have survived. But the beauty of the scenery during that time fooled many into thinking life had simply gotten suddenly better and richer. And, maybe that was the flowers and trees true purpose after all…to distract humankind.

To understand the symbolism of nature, whether it is the seasons of spring, winter, fall, summer, or in fact any part of our universe at all, we must first understand that everything we know will either change or grow. All of nature is contained within our bodies, like miniature reflections of the universe. We are in union with nature, not in conflict with it, even when people say we aren’t—and we must seek nature’s lessons in ourselves first before we can see the bigger picture, the truth of our existence. We must seek after what the Japanese refer to as, Shin-shin, shin-gan, or The mind and eyes of God.  Only then will we be able to comprehend the enormity and true significance hidden in this, the tale of Daniel.

You see, Daniel was a product of change that year as well. In fact, it seemed that more children and teenagers than ever from around the world were suddenly growing taller—like the trees were—maturing at an astonishing rate in their bodies and minds. However, this also, was a fallacy. Oh they were growing all right, but they weren’t really human, no, not at all. They weren’t aliens from another planet, and they weren’t what are commonly thought of as spirit beings; rather, they were the very essence, the very purpose, of a course of action that had been set into motion by an unseen source many, many eons ago…

6, he thought, and so it was. 4, and so it was also. 2, and as before, it came to be. A final roll—six—and so it was yet again. Daniel Renfro felt weary, despite having just waked up a few minutes before. Lying on his stomach in his bed, one arm hanging over the edge, he gingerly ran his fingers over the length of the red die on the floor. His fingertips felt the familiar, six, white, dimpled impressions.

Weird, he muttered. Strange coincidences the explanation in his mind, but it was not entirely satisfactory. What was really bizarre to Daniel, however, was that he had felt compelled to do this first thing upon waking. He cupped the die once more in his hand, ready to toss it for the fifth time. A number began to form in his mind...

Daniel Keith Renfro! his foster mother’s voice bellowed out from the kitchen, Come on and eat!

The number quickly erased from his consciousness, Daniel gave a sigh and hauled himself out of bed. He hastily arranged the bed covers in a semi-passable making, threw on his long blue robe and slippers and shuffled off to breakfast. His mother's bothered face greeted him.

"Daniel, I have to take the car in for a tune-up this morning. It's been running a bit funny lately. I'll be gone for a few hours. Your dad would take care of it, but he got called into work today.

He went to work? On Sunday, mom? Dad and I were supposed to play catch today! Daniel, crestfallen, felt his shoulders slump.

Daniel, he had to go, and he said to tell you that he's sorry, and that he'll make it up to you next weekend.

            His mom, Julia, set a plate on the table filled with a hearty amount of bacon, eggs, waffles and hash browns. Daniel sat down and momentarily forgot about his father being gone, hungrily devouring his mother’s mood-adjustment food.

His mother watched him eat for a moment. You sure are a growing boy! she exclaimed. Then she got serious again. Now Daniel, you can stay home while I take care of the car, if you want. The number to the auto shop is by the phone if you need me. The number to the shop is...

5,3,6,1,1,1,1, thought Daniel. He was looking up, as if seeing inside his mind, appearing to stare blankly into space. Finally, he shrugged and took a mouthful of bacon.

Did you hear me Daniel? his mom asked.

Uh, yeah, mom, the number's by the phone. I'll stay here.

She tousled his jet black hair and managed a smile. I love you Danny.

I love you too mom.

She turned and left through the connecting kitchen/garage door, and a blast of warm air filled the room. A moment later, Daniel heard the sound of the car starting up and backing down the driveway, and the familiar clickety-clank, clickety-clank of the garage door closing automatically.

Daniel finished his food with a glass of orange juice retrieved from the fridge.

The yellow piece of paper by the kitchen phone caught his eye. He approached it carefully, almost reverently. Slowly, he bent over and looked at it, as though afraid to touch it. The phone number was scrawled there in his mother’s familiar, tiny script, along with the name of the auto shop.

Five-three-six-one-one-one-one, he read aloud. Was that what he had just thought the number was? He couldn't quite remember, but he thought it might be. Suddenly a chill crept up his spine, and he thought about the die that morning that he had rolled. A strange feeling came over him, like he had done this before. Awareness was dawning over him like a desolate blanket.

Déjà vu, he thought, dismissively. He went back down the long hallway, until he got to his bedroom door. He stood there, looking around his room for a moment. He took in the hurriedly-made bed with a popular science-fiction movie’s sheets and cover on it plus the walnut wood desk and matching chair in the corner next to the closet. He thought that the bedsheets were starting to look too immature for his twelve years. On the desk sat a book case filled with science fiction and mystery books, plus a huge, red, King James Bible.

The Bible had always been Daniel's favorite book. The stories full of spiritual, mystical, mythological and sometimes historical qualities set in lands and times so long ago were intriguing to him. Neither Daniel nor his parents were religious, and his parents also weren’t overtly spiritual. But, lately Daniel had begun to feel like there was a great mystery to his own existence, and that if he could only open his mind more, he would see its design and figure out its puzzle. The Bible seemed full of people throughout time that were exploring this same mystery, and so Daniel read its metaphors with apt interest, eager to map out their ancient paths; what were their mistakes and triumphs along the way of their many varied quests?

The closet door was half-open and Daniel could see some of his toys in there. He had many space vehicles and alien-looking plastic action figures that he used to play with a lot. A lot of fantasy figurines too, that he now had, like ones used in role-playing games were lying around. The games had become one of his new interests—and he and his best friend Sykes, who was also named Daniel—played those games for hours.

In the middle of the floor sat his newest work—an obsession, really—something of his own making: a board game with huge implications, a game of destiny. He had gotten the idea to make up his own game after feeling that he could do it better than the bought games he and Sykes had been playing. He had taken several large pieces of cardboard, and with a ruler for straight edges, a black ink pen and a magic marker, he had drawn elaborate mazes covering every single square inch. When each cardboard was completely filled with his labyrinths of planned, kaleidoscopic vision, he began to draw in caves, mountains, castles, oceans, forests, deserts, and more. Then he named each of the boards as a specific land mass with a unique government and culture and created rules of play for each as well. He came up with a fantasy world of dragons and knights—mystical creatures both good and bad—and hidden treasures. The idea was to travel from land to land, searching for treasure while battling the forces of evil, which sometimes took the form of your opponent’s army. You and the other player might ultimately clash in a war of the titans, although, if it was to happen, that was up to the players. Because of its size and gaming scope, a game like this could be played for a year or more.

His father had been very impressed by his creativity when he had first viewed it. Maybe we can market it, Danny, he had said. Daniel smiled as he remembered his fathers praise. Standing there now, looking at the main board laid out on the floor, he felt a sense of excitement at wanting to play. Then his eyes wandered, almost with reverent fear, to the die on the ground.

It had started a long time ago. It seemed that all of his life he had seen numbers in his head, appearing in a gold color surrounded by intense blackness. But he had ignored it for the most part, figuring that everyone had the same ability and that it was just natural. That is, until he began playing board games where dice were involved. He noticed people yelling things like, Come on and give me a six! and then they would roll a two or something. But Daniel, as long as he concentrated and wasn't distracted, always knew what he was going to roll beforehand. And lately, while building the board game he had so diligently created, he noticed that his number predicting ability was getting stronger. He was just now beginning to learn to accept it, and how to trust it as a skill.

But what did it all mean? Was he psychic or something? He felt afraid of the implications of it all. Was he a freak? Was he crazy?

Of course I'm not crazy! he said aloud, angrily, to no one. But his eyes hadn't left the die on the floor, and its seemingly accusing red and white stare.

Daniel put these thoughts out of his mind for the time being and crossed the room to his dresser, grabbed some underwear, and then he went to the closet where he grabbed a change of clothes. Two minutes later he was in the shower, humming a tune and washing as though without a care.

Feeling refreshed, he exited the bathroom and made a beeline for the living room, sitting down on the comfortable sofa while simultaneously clicking on the TV with the remote. Although he didn't consciously think of it, he instinctively knew it was 9:30 A.M., and so he clicked it onto a popular music video channel to catch the last of the most requested videos; then at 10:00 he put it on a movie channel and watched the early morning film. It was an old one about a boy who must save the galaxy by becoming a starship fighter plot, having been recruited by aliens because of his ability at playing certain video games. It was a good mix of action, science-fiction and comedy, and Daniel enjoyed it.

Afterwards, Daniel stepped out onto the back porch to get some fresh air. The ground was completely covered with flowers, creating a blanket of color over a serene landscape. Kennewick, Washington, had been a rather sleepy town since the nuclear power plant there had lain off thousands of employees. Being that the power plant had been the principal source of income for most families, many had to move and seek employment elsewhere. This gave the town a very quiet quality, and as Daniel stood on the porch, he could hear nothing more than the sound of water running in a cyclical fashion through the cherub-laced, garden fountain. The trees seemed taller than just a month ago, but he knew that was impossible; under an azure sky they cast a cheerful, yet ominous mood. The air was crisp and fresh. The thermometer that hung on the side of the house read eighty-one degrees Fahrenheit.

Daniel took in a deep breath, smelling the sweet surrender of the lilacs’ perfume. The air seemed so clean, so rejuvenating. Daniel stood there, in meditative thought, relishing the feelings coursing through his body, the warm weather making him feel very much alive; it was so good to be out of school for the summer! He attempted a few half-hearted arm circles, yawned and then stretched.

He loved the different seasons, each one being associated with distinct emotions in him. In spring, he usually felt fairly content. In winter, however, he felt like staying inside around a warm fire, under a thick blanket, retreating from the world with a hot cup of cocoa. And these latter feelings he associated with seeking shelter.

Yes, it was the wintertime when deep anxiety set in for Daniel. The ceasing of the hustle and bustle of people on the go, the winter seemed to conceal life. And this was what Daniel associated with discontent, insecurity. He had always been pretty much a loner, except for just a few close friends, and he was a studious type who liked to have a set routine. But this probably came from early childhood, as he had always been afraid of losing his current foster parents, even though he had been with them since infancy. He had a constant fear of being rejected, probably because his natural parents had rejected him. He had vivid nightmares of harsh winters that took those he loved from him, away forever into howling, windy nights.

Although a lack of love was most often thought of as the cause, he didn't know the real reasons he had been given up for adoption—having never even known his real parents or any of the circumstances that prompted them to stop raising him. He had just always associated his biological parents with abandonment. In winter, people disappeared—into their homes, away from life, and even in his dreams. Even most animals hid away during the toughness of a wintry season.

Daniel, taking in three more deep breaths and feeling invigorated within, gave a final glance out at the densely wooded landscape, turned on his heel and re-entered the living room.

Already feeling hunger pains even though he had just eaten a big breakfast, he retrieved some instant soup from the kitchen, entered it into a drinking mug, added water, and microwaved it for sixty seconds. With the temperature of the soup just right, it mimicked the air outside and warmed his belly, the mushroom base delicious to his palate.

He stood there for a few minutes relishing the taste, his mind on